


Laws of Change

by credencebvrebxne



Series: symbiosis [1]
Category: Bones (TV), Criminal Minds
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/credencebvrebxne/pseuds/credencebvrebxne
Summary: Part of my new series: symbiosis, which is a compilation of zack/spencer oneshots/stories---------The time Spencer has a bad day, but he sticks it out because he has someone to come home to.





	

A/N: SO. Since Bones came back, and since my favorite squintern returned, I decided to celebrate with a cutesy one shot with my two favorite geniuses. This is the first in the “symbiosis” series of drabbles/one shots/short fic

  
Spencer sat on the plane. Anxiety was coming off of him in waves, like water, suffocating him and pulling at his breath. He worried his lip and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. The last case had been especially difficult. Children were always difficult. The only thing keeping him focused was the thought of who was waiting for him back home. The planes hums and shakes were unnoticed by Spencer, who was deep in thought. After the plane landed, he excused himself from his coworkers, choosing to walk home immediately. Spencer barely made it into his apartment. He collapsed as soon as he crossed the threshold. His fiance, who was eating dinner quickly rose from his seat, rushing over to Spencer's prone figure. Zack Addy lifted Spencer gently, walking him over to the couch in their apartment. "Spencer," he said worriedly.

Spencer's head lolled, he blinked tiredly. "Zack," he breathed.

Zack pulled Spencer close to him, running his fingers through chestnut locks. "Are you okay?" Zack asked, rubbing circles into Spencer's scalp.  
"

"I'm so tired," Spencer said softly.

"Well, that's okay. I can put dinner in the fridge," Zack reasoned.

Spencer straightened his poise, rubbing at his eyes. "Not like that. I mean. Yeah like that but in a longterm sense."

Zack's brow furrowed. "I don't know what that means," he said.

Spencer sighed. "I just mean. There are so many cases coming in and I hate it. I hate being away from you, I hate not being able to come home, and I hate that it's a constant, relentless flow of people being absolute assholes to each other."

Zack paused, wracking his brain for the right thing to say. Both men were not experts at social interaction, but if someone had to choose which genius was worse, Zack would win by a long shot. "Does that mean you want to quit?" Zack asked slowly.

Spencer shook his head, stopped, then shrugged. "I don't think so. But I don't really know for sure. I hate change."  
Zack cocked his head to the side. "Well. The law of change states that everything is in the process of becoming something else, so aren't we always changing."

Spencer pursed his lips. "That makes sense. But it's more than that. I love working for the BAU. I love being a profiler. Sure, I could leave, but I don't really want to. I just want a break I guess."

Zack smiled slightly. “I’m always told that I do well with regular, structured routine. But I also don’t like falling into a rut.”

Spencer nodded in understanding. “As am I. And I feel like my career is falling into a rut.”

“We should take a vacation,” Zack suggested, much to Spencer’s surprise.

Spencer tucked his long legs underneath him and laid on Zack’s lap. “That’s a good idea, where would you want to go?”

“The catacombs,” Zack answered immediately.

Spencer’s eye brightened. “That’s actually pretty cool,” he admitted.

Zack wrinkled his nose. “I have cool ideas,” he said weakly.

Spencer let out a weak chuckle, and Zack flushed. Even when Spencer was in the darkest place, Zack always managed to make him laugh, some way or another. Most of the times without even trying. Zack carded his hands through Spencer’s hair fondly. “I can put in some vacation time at the university, find a guest lecturer. We could go in a few weeks,” Zack offered earnestly.

Spencer smiled slightly. “Do you really want to do that?” he asked.

Zack nodded, excited. “I would love that,” he paused. “And, it would be our first weekend away as a married couple,” he added bashfully.

Spencer’s smile grew and he leaned in, pressing his lips against Zack’s clumsily. He deepened the kiss, reaching up to tangle his long fingers in Zack’s hair. Zack hummed in approval, supporting Spencer’s neck. Spencer broke the kiss, pulling himself into a seated position. He resumed the kiss, tongue darting out to peruse Zack’s slightly chapped lips. Zack clenched his fists, the scar tissue white against peach skin. Zack let Spencer take charge, not questioning it when Spencer straddles him, embracing him. He buried his forehead into the crook of Zack’s neck. He inhaled Zack’s scent slowly, tightening his grip. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Zack was confused. Confusion is a very common feeling Zack experienced. “For what?” he asked.

Spencer shrugged. “I’m not sure. My gratidue is ineffable. But it seems that when I am around you. When we spend time together. I feel this gnawing sense of gratitude.”  
“I’m grateful for you too,” Zack murmured.

Spencer rubbed his temples. “I think I’m getting a hunger headache,” he stated.

Zack gently moved Spencer onto the adjacent couch seat. Standing, he said, “Let me heat up dinner.”

Spencer would always be gracious that his husband knew how to cook. Spencer would also be gracious for the countless times Zack would deliver a warm plate to him in bed, before climbing in and snuggling into Spencer’s side. Zack reappeared on the couch, holding a plate with mashed potatoes and barbequed pork. “Thanks babe,” Spencer said.

Zack waved it off. The two chatted amicably, but before Spencer could stand and waltz to the bathroom, Zack put a hand on his arm. “Spence. Please stay safe. It’s very dangerous out there and I would find it rather inconvenient if you got killed by some Neanderthal of a serial criminal,” he rationalized.

The corners of Spencer’s mouth quirked upwards. He could tell, eight months, six days, eight hours, foury six minutes, and some odd seconds into the marriage (with an extra 2 years, five months, sixteen days, two hours, and more odd seconds into the relationship) that Zack expressed his caring sentiments through logic and reasoning. Spencer himself was very much the same, but he had improved considerably with the companionship of those on his team. Spencer leaned in, kissing Zack lazily. “I think I’d be rather annoyed if I died too,” he quipped, amused.


End file.
